Armisticestuck
by ChibiJaime
Summary: Today is April 13, 2047. Your name is John Egbert, and it is your 25th birthday. You are about to embark on the most important year of your life... GamTav, KarRezi, SolRadia, EriFef, JohnVris, DaveJade, KanRose, EqNep... Incomplete
1. Prologue

It had been a very strange ten years. Granted, if someone had told ten year old John Egbert that he would be living in the generation that experienced first contact with an alien race, he would have called them crazy. Now, ten years into the armistice, fifteen years after the fighting started, he found himself marveling just how lucky humanity had been.

The history books told the story. He had read all of them, of course. Aside from an enthusiastic interest in ectobiology, he was intrigued by accounts of how humanity had even managed to survive Her Imperious Condescension's initial assault. To say it was miraculous was an understatement bordering on the obscene, though no matter how ridiculously lucky they had been, he couldn't help but marvel at their good fortune.

At present, he was quietly lounging in the den of his home, flipping through an archaic tome that recorded how humanity learned of the trolls' existence. June 12th, 1947... almost one-hundred years ago. That, of course, had only been the United States' involvement, of course. As he understood, another alien craft had crashed in the Tunguska region of Russia in the early 1900s, and similar to the Roswell incident, all the trolls on board had died on impact. It was such a weird thought, knowing trolls had been on earth such a long time, with so few people knowing anything about them. Had they survived – and, if he recalled correctly from what some of his troll friends had told him, been high enough in their blood spectrum – they may have still been living even now, able to comment on the war and the ten year armistice from the point of view of someone who knew humanity as an observer, and maybe even as a friend.

It was so strange to consider. Ten years ago, when the armistice had started, he had been fifteen. Now, on his birthday ten years later, there were things happening no one would have dreamed of. Of course, the greater populace was also not as privy to some of the events near the end of the fighting as he and his small group of friends.

He recalled very clearly the phone call he had gotten from Dave Strider; well, Lalonde, but he did not use his real last name due to his involvement in the troll rebellion. He had been the one to call John, shortly after a successful raid on a troll supply ship. His older brother had been involved in the raid, and had been very surprised to find two recently acquired slaves – not human ones, either. The trolls were enslaving their own, simply because of their low blood color. A third was in chains elsewhere on the ship, scheduled for execution simply because his mutant blood was bright red: the same color as a human's.

Those three young trolls were the start of an unusual turn in the conflict. They, along with many other "lowbloods" found in succeeding raids, detested the Condesce and wanted nothing more than to see her reign end. They started living in small, secluded communes on Earth once they were freed from being war prisoners. Some even made friends among the humans. John and Dave were two such humans, becoming close friends of the first three liberated trolls: Karkat Vantas, Tavros Nitram, and Aradia Medigo. All three were torn from their friends and guardian lusi, and at least two of them had "highblooded" lovers – matesprits, they called them – from whom they had been separated. A whole new perspective was opening up, and it certainly was not unwelcome.

The memories, John mused, were fond. The trolls had spoken very little English upon their arrival, and teaching any of th em – Karkat in particular – was a true exercise in patience and perseverance. The humans had learned some Alternian along the way, and at this point, there was barely any indication the aliens had spoken so little English ten years prior. Through these once strangers, he met their highblood friends, including the young heiress to the throne, Feferi Peixes. John had decided very quickly that the Heiress was much more personable than what he had seen of the Empress herself.

Of course, the best of all of it hadn't happened until two years ago to this day. If he were to make a list of things he was glad he did wrong, that solitary moment in time would have had to have been listed among the top three, at the very least. He had been rushing around, gathering up various odds and ends for a project he'd been working on in his spare time. Not paying any mind to where he was going, he had run headlong into a tall figure heading the opposite direction on the sidewalk. The unfortunate and unintentional roadblock had not faltered, but he had been sent sprawling, gears and mechanical bits and bobs scattering on the pavement.

He was fairly certain he had rambled off apologies for a good five minutes before he realized that not only was the stranger laughing, they were helping him pick up the things he had dropped. When John lifted his head, he was quite pleasantly surprised to find a startlingly attractive female troll grinning at him and offering him a gear. She spoke very good English, probably a combination of a relatively high class upbringing and a military background, and introduced herself as Vriska Serket. Even more surprising, she knew and was apparently friends with Karkat as well, and had actually heard of John through him. It didn't take long before he developed a close relationship with Vriska, and while she could be crass and sometimes cruel, their similar interests allowed them to maintain their somewhat unorthodox affair.

It didn't hurt at all that she had a fond love for campy old Nicholas Cage movies as well. Most of their dates had been spent having a nice dinner at his place, followed by watching all kinds of cheesy old movies... though half the time, he mused with a blush coloring his nose and cheeks, they never managed to finish watching the movie. Not that this was a fact he would readily share with any of his friends, but he wasn't one to split hairs. He rather enjoyed the time he got to spend with Vriska, which was admittedly not very often. She was a captain in the imperial armada, with her own ship – the Grand Marquise. She had promised to actually take him on it someday, though he wasn't entirely sure if he was ready for that level of excitement.

Dave had given him grief, of course, but overall, he had no real complaints. His twin sister, Rose, had gotten rather close to another of the liberated trolls herself – a quiet, elegant midblood named Kanaya Maryam, and the idea of that had probably warmed the "cool kid" up to the idea of troll-human inter relations even more than John being with Vriska could have. The world had quieted down in the light of all their discoveries, the trolls were settling in to life among humans, and for the time being, everything seemed just fine.

It was April 13th, 2047 CE, year ten of the Alternia-Earth Armistice and just a little less than two months two the one-hundred year anniversary of the Roswell Incident. Today was John Egbert's twenty-fifth birthday. This was a day of celebration, recognition, and remembrance. Today was the first day of the most important year in John Egbert's life.


	2. Interlude 1

_June 20, 1947_

_From the Desk of Dr. Charles English_

The bodies from the craft which went down in the desert seventy-five miles from Roswell, New Mexico have finally been relocated to Walker Air Force Base. My assistant and I offer our most sincere thanks. The specimens are in excellent condition, despite the nature of their departure from the world of the living. We have begun the preservation process and have found these extraterrestrials to be quite resilient to decomposition.

Initial physical analysis has presented these extraterrestrials to possess thick skin, visibly a steel gray color, that is coarse in texture and difficult to puncture or perforate. Out of five viable specimens (three male, two female), all extraterrestrials show a lack of hair across all skin surfaces and extremities with the exception of eyelashes, eyebrows, and scalp. All specimens possess two thick horns, made of a keratin-like material. Judging from the cross section, these horns grow thicker and longer as the extraterrestrial matures. The size does not appear to be determined by gender, as two of the males possessed smaller horns than one of the females, while the third male possessed horns outstretching the size of all four other specimens by far.

The females appear to have vestigial breasts, as there is no sign of any purpose in the design. Dissection will be required to determine if female extraterrestrials would be capable of reproducing sexually, and if so, if the breasts would somehow serve in the reproduction process.

Further analysis will be conducted once we can properly preserve the specimens and ensure they will be able to survive for long periods as we move forward with our study. We have relocated the ship to the air force base as well, and a few of my team are working on decoding the signal it sent out a few days after the crash. Though I doubt it was more than a distress signal, we can never be too careful. It will be necessary to keep close watch on the situation at hand. We will perform as much in-depth analysis on the specimens as possible. If we accept that invasion is a very real possibility at this point, we must be prepared for whatever comes our way.

I will continue to provide detailed and in-depth reports on our findings as we progress. God willing, something good will come of this. Perhaps we will not protect the future, but the medical mysteries we may solve and the technological advances possible through the extraterrestrials' ship and weaponry will boost humanity for centuries to come.


	3. Chapter 1

Imagine a point in time. The thrill of the first drop on a roller coaster, someone else's warm breath on your lips, a baby's first cry, the smell of warm, fresh pie hitting your nose. A single, significant moment that makes up the hundreds of millions of moments in a life. One moment can begin or end a life, take down an empires, or change the entire world. Those moments often felt far more poignant to Aradia Megido than to anyone else.

She had, at the very least, enjoyed her tenure on this small planet so far. She missed her matesprit dearly, even more so now with his being missing for so long. Sollux Captor had been lucky to have grown up alongside the magenta he would helm for, really, and compared to literally every other helmsman in the imperial fleet, Eridan Ampora treated his with considerably more fairness. The spectacled seadweller was sometimes hard to deal with, but she couldn't fault him that. And she knew he probably had just as little a clue as to where Sollux was as any of them at this point. Besides, she had plenty of things to keep her at least somewhat occupied during this whole mess.

Take one Karkat Vantas. The troll was currently sitting in the common area of the small communal home, hissing and snarling his endless frustration as Kanaya Maryam patched his injuries. It was too common to see him stalking around with bandages these days, always stained a bright, unnatural red, usually bound around his arms and chest. Tavros Nitram often faired little better, but right now the shy orange blood was actually better off for a change, sitting and watching Kanaya work. The jade blood was endlessly patient and almost infinitely motherly, which was probably why she fit in so well with the humans she lived with.

"Fuck!" Karkat did have a tendency to yell, didn't he? "Fucking hell, Kanaya! That fucking hurts!"

Genial as ever, Kanaya did not rise to the barbs, grabbing an alcohol soaked swab from the tray beside her. "You would not have to endure such pain on a nigh weekly basis if you would avoid so frequently throwing yourself into increasingly life-threatening situations. It is a wonder you and Tavros have managed to survive this long."

That earned her an irritated snort from the young rebel, and Karkat a pot shot from Dave Strider, seated next to his twin across the room. "You hear that, Kitkat? All you have to do to stop getting your stupid ass hurt is stop being an idiot. I know, I know; it's a pretty monumental request and all. I mean, not everyone can be as good at this rebellion shit as me. But I'm sure you can at least try."

Karkat growled at him, eyes narrowing despite how much he was hurting. "You can go straight to hell, Strider. And don't fucking call me Kitkat. Fuck, you're as bad as Egbert."

Grinning, Dave waved his hand. He hadn't escaped the last raid unscathed himself, as evidenced by the bandaging on his hand. Rose frowned, grabbing his wrist with a sigh. "You tease him, then promptly turn around with things like this. These raids are getting more and more dangerous. I can understand the allure, as well as the adventurous aspect and the very Robin Hood-esque mentality of pilfering ill-gotten gains from the pompous and self-assured highbloods in order to redistribute the spoils to the maligned, much beleaguered lowbloods... but this is starting to become absurd. You lost three trolls-"

"Five. And one human." The interruption came from Tavros, who was fidgeting anxiously. "I'm sorry, Rose, I... I didn't mean to interrupt, but... uh... actually, I do agree with you. I mean... we may want to lay low for a while." When Karkat shot him a look, he jumped a bit. "No, I'm serious! Look, it's like they've just been waiting for us. We've been raiding a lot lately, and... and... I think they might really be getting used to us."

The room fell quiet, the only sounds being Karkat's pained grumbling and the soft clink of glasses as Aradia slipped into the room, carrying a tray laiden with a teapot and cups. Finally, Kanaya spoke, sighing as she leaned away from Karkat to wipe her hands on a towel. "I know you will be dislinclined to agree, Karkat, but both Rose and Tavros raise valid points. You are losing more people with each excursion. How many more must lose their lives before you realize it would be beneficial to step back and allow things to quiet down?"

Karkat didn't answer her immediately, instead lowering his head and muttering a subdued thank you when Aradia pressed a steaming cup into his hands. "...yeah. I get it. Doesn't mean I fucking like it."

"No one said you had to," Dave countered, leaning forward as his sister fussily adjusted the gauze on his burned hand. "Hell, none of us are crazy about backing off. Not when we're finally starting to turn heads. But I know a poor fucking shot when I see one. That one fucking guy. The leader of the subjugglers or whatever they're called."

"Subjuggulators," Tavros corrected.

Dave snorted and shrugged. 'Whatever. He's been up our asses hard lately, and you can't tell me you haven't noticed."

Tavros nodded, expression grim. "And then there's the issue with lowbloods going missing."

Everyone looked up when Aradia made a soft, distressed sound at that statement. They were all very aware that Sollux had gone missing a full sweep before, right after sending her an excited message that he'd gotten shore leave for the entire time Eridan was supposed to be accompanying an expedition into deep space. Karkat had exhausted all channels and as far out as Eridan was, it was impossible to flag the Twin Ascension with the news. Not that any of them intended to give up, but it was heartbreaking all the same.

"We'll find Sollux, Aradia," Karkat reassured gently. "We'll find him and all the other missing lowbloods. And we'll kick Her Imperious Sea Bitch's ass for all the shit she's done!"

A murmur of agreement passed through the assembled revolutionaries, and Aradia gave them a sad, gentle smile before escaping back into the kitchen, tears glittering in her eyes. Kanaya, expression strained, moved from Karkat's side to settle next to Rose, quietly wrapping her arms around her human matesprit. "It is a true hurt to be separated from one's matesprit. It is a life bond... our one destined mate. We do not get a second opportunity. It is... tragic."

Dave was silent for a moment, watching his sister and her lover quietly before passing a glance around the room. "Then we'll just have to rescue who we can, and make abso-fucking-lutely sure this never happens again."

* * *

Royal chambers, the Orphaner's Descent. For the young Heiress, time in space tended to blur and run together. She had no idea how long it had been since she last heard from her friends, with the exception of Gamzee Makara and Terezi Pyrope, and – of course – Equius Zahhak. Not that the blue blood was that much of a conversationalist. He was her appointed bodyguard, and he took that job almost too seriously.

Not that Feferi minded. That was just Equius's way, and she had seen how close and personal his relations with their mutual friend Nepeta Leijon could be. Seeing them like that made her miss Eridan and Sollux all the more.

Sighing, she rested her head on folded arms, watching an aquarium embedded in the wall, filled with a plethora of bright, colorful cuttlefish. The largest, brightest of these had been a gift from Eridan, the night before he had left on his long tour of duty.

It was distressing. No one had heard from the Twin Ascension in a full sweep, and Sollux had been missing just as long. Lacking the two most important trolls in her life had left her unwilling to leave her chambers for more than necessary functions, lest she have to spend more time in the presence of the Condesce. It was a wonder the old sea witch hadn't made an attempt on her life already.

She was just about to doze off right there on the ornate couch when faint knocking caught her attention, and she lifted her head, blinking. "Yes?"

"I apologize for the intrusion, my lady," came the soft, uncertain voice of her bodyguard. "However, you have a guest."

Feferi blinked, sitting up with a curious expression. "A guest? Who is it?"

There was no response at first. When Equius replied, he sounded almost... amused. "He wants this to be a surprise."

That brought a smile to Feferi's face, and she sat up straight, pushing her hair out of the way. It was hard to keep the bubbly enthusiasm out of her voice. "Please let them in, Equius."

The door had barely been open half a second when the tall, lean captain stepped through, hardly giving it time to close as he crossed the distance between them in long, quick steps. She had just gotten to her feet when he had his arms around her, pulling her close in a rough, needy kiss.

Eridan rarely hesitated.

And to be perfectly honest, Feferi was okay with that. She melted into his touch, glad for the presence of her matesprit. His grip was tight, warm and welcome, but it was when she felt his hands start to trail down tot he small of her back that she finally pulled away, pressing her hands against his armored chest until he reluctantly drew back, breathing heavily with his gills fluttering against his neck. "Cod, Fef. I've missed you." He sighed, burying his face against her neck briefly, breathing her in as both rows of his shark-like fangs scraped her skin. "A w-whole fuckin' sw-weep in dead space. I've missed you so much. Sol can stay w-with Ara a bit longer. I plan to make up for lost tide..."

"That's what we need to talk about, Eridan," Feferi managed to squeak out, her hands tightening on his shoulders. "Sollux never made it to aradia's on Earth. He's been missing all sweep."

That immediately drew the seadweller's attention, and he lifted his head to look her in the eye, instantly alert. "W-what? Missin'? All sw-weep?"

Feferi nodded, wrapping her arms around his waist, trying to keep as much physical contact as she could. She was clearly upset, and extremely anxious. "He's been missing since you left. We've been trying to hail the Ascension, but you were so far out..."

The young captain scowled, pulling the heiress as close as he could manage. "And w-we have no clues? Nothin'? Does Kar know-w?"

"I told him after we tried going through Terezi. She and Redglare got tangled up in so much paperwork... but Karkat hasn't heard anything either." She gave a frustrated sigh, pressing her face into Eridan's chest. "I'm so worried. Lowbloods have been disappearing left and right, even from the refugee colonies on Earth. She's up to something, Eridan; I just know it!"

Eridan frowned, resting his head briefly against Feferi's, closing his eyes as he tried to focus on the last time he had seen the psionic. It wasn't very difficult. He'd been in the engine room, where Sollux usually went right before he was ready to get underway with whatever project he was working on. Eridan had just gotten word that he was going to be in deep space for an expedition, something that did not at all excite him, and he needed to think of some way to get his kismesis partner out of it. Not that he didn't appreciate the company, but that much time on the ship together without any kind of break would not be good for their sanity one way or the other.

Sollux had glanced at him in that sort of sideways, sort of curious fashion, and shot a sass ass remark at him. The fact that he was getting time off to visit Aradia, however, delighted him. Especially considering the amount of time he was getting.

No. This didn't at all make sense. He had left him at the spaceport terminal, where he should've been taking a shuttle to Earth to visit the refugee commune. He should have gotten to Earth safely, seen his matesprit, spent time doing whatever he wanted.

His arms tightened around Feferi and he sighed, pressing his lips to her forehead as he tried to make sense of what had happened in the sweep he'd been away. "And you're sure no one has seen him? Not a single person?"

"Like I said," she replied softly, fingers curling against the hard armor covering his torso, "I've gone through every channel I could possibly think of. Even Gamzee looked into it, with what little time he could get away from the Subjuggulators. It's upsetting. Poor Aradia has been beside herself, though helping down in the refugee camps is keeping her mind off of it to some extent." Sighing, the heiress closed her eyes, tipping her head back. When she matched gazes with the captain, it was with a look of pure sorrow, lips tightly pressed together. "I don't like this, Eridan. I don't like not knowing."

Eridan frowned deeply. He didn't like seeing that look on her face, or hearing the quiet waver that indicated her barely holding back the tears that were threatening to flow. "I know-w. I don't like it either. It isn't like Sol to just go missing like that, and it's even less likely that he'd just... w-wander off somew-where. It's completely nonsensical." His frown deepened, creasing his brow with irritation and worry. "I'll look into some things. Talk to my crew. They were a little hitched about the mission. I'm starting to wonder if there was something more at w-work in sending me out to the back end of now-where."

He was reluctant to let go, but he did release her with one last kiss, lingering briefly in her chamber. After so much time apart, leaving her felt like he was abandoning her somehow, but both of them knew they really didn't have much of a choice. If they wanted to find Sollux, it was going to be a matter of acting quickly and hoping that wherever he was, he was still alive.

* * *

The lower pits were quiet. It wasn't the finest place to be, and for such a high ranking group, it was a rather unusual resting place. None of the subjuggulators minded, however. They were like a pack of wild woofbeasts sometimes, and Gamzee was reminded day in and day out why he hated it so much. When he was younger, it was pretty much his life's mission. He wanted to be a subjuggulator more than anything, but now that he was here, living in the shadow of his ancestor - the Grand Highblood - he wanted to be anywhere but.

The troll really was a menace, he admitted to himself, but at the very least, he could count himself lucky to have maintained his sanity. He had been allowed to avoid the "training" most young Subjuggulators underwent at eight sweeps, only working in his ancestor's care, being trained to someday perhaps overtake him.

Not that it felt very fucking likely. The Grand Highblood was well known to be one of the greatest and most brutal fighters on Alternia. To challenge him was a known death wish. Hell, he had a throne in his chamber made entirely of the skulls and bones of those who had dared to speak out against him. Just walking in there was harrowing. The walls were painted in so many colors, the colors of the hemospectrum, covering all shades with the exception of the royal magentas and tyrian purples. Even their own indigo blood stained the wall in some places. Terezi and Redglare had mentioned to him on a number of occasions that just walking by there was sickening, so overwhelming was the stench of death and the muted, decaying mix of bloods.

It was home for him, he mused bitterly. He was at least in command of his facilities, and far better off than those drooling idiots that behaved more like beasts than trolls. All of them blue and indigo bloods, not a single one a shade below, and all of them willing to do whatever the Grand Highblood demanded of them. They lapped up his words like water, and followed his orders like roarbeasts after a particularly choice cut of meat.

Today, however, Gamzee's mind was focused elsewhere. He was thinking of Earth, and of finding some way to go down for a visit. He actually rather liked the little planet, and missed going down whenever he could. After hearing, joyfully, that Karkat, Tavros, and Aradia had escaped slavery and death at the hands of a troll transport ship, he had found every opportunity to go down and visit his friends. The opportunity to see Tavros was always a treat, of course, and Karkat too.

But he really, truly wanted to do something to help Aradia. It felt like he was completely drowning when it came to her. She was so torn up over Sollux having gone missing that she didn't even seem like the same troll some days. She moved around with her daily routines, empty and hollow, like the light in her had just gone out. It was like that, he'd heard, to lose your flush quadrant. He wanted desperately to believe that Sollux was still alive somewhere, but he was completely at a loss as to where somewhere might be. He himself had done sweeps of every possible place, regrettably using his position as a Subjuggulator to scare those of lower blood into giving him the information he wanted.

No one, he recognized, dared to speak out against the descendant of the Grand Highblood himself. It was simply unheard of, and considered almost blasphemy. It was about the only thing his wretched genetics ever did for him, save of causing him to have severe anger management issues. At the very least, he was glad for the occasional cheat he could pull, getting a bit of sopor slime into his system to avoid the bubbling anger that sometimes settled deep in the pit of his stomach.

He leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on his recooperacoon. It felt empty in here. He'd not been able to get word to anyone outside of Feferi, though even her company was preferable to none at all. She was so sweet natured. He often wished she could be Empress, just because of how much better she could run all this mess than the heinous bitch that currently ruled.

Not that he would ever say that out loud. Her Imperious Condescension, the Condesce, had ears and eyes all over the Imperial Fleet, all the way to Earth, all the way back to Alternia. No one could escape her. No one could get away from her. She was an all-seeing, all-knowing force of pure terror and oppression. He understood now why the Signless - no, the Sufferer, after his capture and execution - had spoken out so against the empire. It was an empire built on bloodlust and hate.

They were told time and time again that it was in a troll's nature. They were simply made for death, war, and destruction. There was nothing more to them. Seeing trolls like Feferi, however, and Tavros, and Aradia, and to some extent even Karkat. These were the ones who reminded him that they did not have that bloodlust bred into them. They were very different creatures from the things they were always told they were supposed to be.

His eyes closed. Surely there must be something he could do. He could feel the hazy tendrils of the sopor he'd ingested earlier starting to take effect. His mind blurred, though he was still astute and connected. The anger and fear that always lingered both ebbed away a bit, regressing to the back of his mind, allowing him to focus on the good for a change. Not that he felt there was much to be thankful about.

He opened his eyes a few moments later, staring in blissful disinterest at the ceiling stained with the blood of those he had been forced to kill, all in the name of an empire he didn't believe in.

He honest to everything felt sick.

* * *

On a distant planet, not so very far in the past, a small figure was making her way across a war-torn field. She had been walking for days now, desperately clutching a small bag to her rag-covered chest. She was unwavering in her dedication, unceasing in her walk. She only paused now and again for a brief rest or to have a drink of water, her pearlescent shell gleaming in the bright sun of her world.

She had been set forth with a specific task in mind. The queen had given her this task, and she would not be swayed. For her age, she was quite the determined little thing, barely fourteen as humans would call it and still completely dedicated to her work and task. Her little cloth covered feet shuffled sand about as she continued forward, leaving the pale gleaming yellow spires behind as she headed for a refugee camp.

The war had been at an impasse for many passes now, and though things were quiet, there was still unrest. There were bandits in the dunes, watching for easy prey, and easy prey was something she would not be. She kept a small sword always at the ready, pressed to her side, and she did her best to stay alert and prepared for whatever was to come.

She swept her eyes back and forth, trying to determine if she was safe yet. She had not yet seen the tents of the camp; only the smoke from the cooking fires indicated she was headed in the right direction. So that way she continued, head held high, shaking just slightly. It was a blessing that their people could go so long without food, but that didn't mean she wasn't hungry. Or wanting for company, for that matter. It had been such a long walk with no one but herself and the parcel she clutched so fiercely in her thin arms to give her solace. It was a long walk indeed.

The little parcel mistress had no intent of stopping, however. The queen, she reminded herself again, had set her forth with a purpose. There was a war in a distant land, and this war would eventually come to their doorstep. The queen knew this. The child obeyed. She recalled the sad look in the queen's pale eyes as she gave the child this task. She was no longer a child, with this one special box.

Her determination restored, she readjusted how she held the satchel and continued to walk, completely ignorant of the pale eyes watching her from a thick black carapace, just a few dunes away...


	4. Interlude 2

_October 25, 1947_

_From the Desk of Dr. Charles English_

The examination of the alien bodies is proceeding much more slowly than anticipated, but in the process, we have made some fascinating discoveries. All subjects appear to possess black blood and glassy black eyes. The interior of the mouth, tongue, and throat also appear to have similar pigmentation. Further analysis indicates some traces of coloration, but it is nonpresent to the point of insignificance.

Dissection of the smallest female specimen has revealed a fully formed reproductive system. Subjects seem to be capable of sexual reproduction, though the females appear to be designed to lay eggs as opposed to giving live birth. Lack of mammary glands in both genders indicates young to be capable of taking solids soon after hatching. I lament the lack of a viable egg and sperm sample from the specimens; the opportunity to examine a living extraterrestrial would be rather fascinating. Most surprising, however, is that while the small female does appear to have been sexually active, the womb shows no signs of having held even an infertile shell. This female was perhaps infertile, or not entirely sexually mature. This will be further explored when the second female is more closely examined.

Perhaps the most exciting discovery thus far, however, is the analysis of the horns on the large male. If initial calculations are to be believed, this specimen is roughly 600 years old. We will examine the other specimens to determine if they exhibit the same longevity as this male. If so, this – combined with physical similarities to humans – may prove eventually useful to the medical community at large...


	5. Chapter 2

It was early in the morning hours of April 13, 2047 when John woke to the feeling of warm breath against his shoulder and long, graceful arms wrapped around his chest. He was pretty used to that by this point; he would never have pegged Vriska for a cuddler, but every time they wound up in bed together, once they were done, she snuggled down and pressed her face into his chest, holding him like he might disappear if she didn't.

He couldn't help but grin. The first couple of times it had happened, he'd nearly put an eye out on one of her horns. He was a lot more used to it now, and he maneuvered his face so he could kiss the top of her head.

As usual, he noted with a wry chuckle, she stirred in his arms, smooth alien skin sliding against his in a rather pleasant fashion as her bright eyes, just a shade too green to be truly blue, flickered open. John just gave a grin, showing off teeth he, for some reason, had never gotten braces to fix. "Good morning, beautiful. Sleep well?"

Vriska just stretched in reply to his question at first, yawning before puffing her hair out of her face. She was trying to look seriously at him, but with seven pupils in her left eye, it made focusing on anything difficult. Not that he was much better, and neither of them had their glasses within reach.

"You're way too cheerful this morning. I don't care if it's your birthday. Always with that sunny smile. Are you trying to make me go blind? It's six in the morning. No one can possibly be this happy at such a ridiculous hour on this planet."

Laughing a little, John shifted his weight, letting her sit up. She had absolutely no qualms about wandering the house naked sometimes, and to be honest, seeing her in the nude had been a little odd the first few times. She had rough, dark patches – three down each side – on her sides where, she told him, her legs had been when she was a grub. They were like a human's belly button, he assumed... or it was the closest approximation he could come up with, excepting that those little ridges were very sensitive around the edges.

She was also ticklish, he mused, debating a course of action which surely would have gotten lesser men killed. It appeared she was on to his shenanigans, however, and he found himself paffed in the face with a pillow as soon as she saw the look on his face. She was smiling, though, so that was a plus. Pushing down the pillow, John grinned up at her. "I can't help it; I'm a morning person. Though I'm honestly not too sure why I woke up this early to begin with."

Vriska gave an absent shrug, pushing her hair back as she tried to work the tangles out of the thick mane with her fingertips. "I'm just going to say it's because it's your birthday and leave it at that. It's the only thing that makes sense. Though you always have been an early riser."

He smiled at that, watching her slide out of the bed with the sort of languid grace he'd seen of a number of members of their species. Though there were a few lacking in that kind of calm, easy grace (Tavros came to mind immediately), some of them just appeared built to move like water. "How long do you have today?"

"Considering Eridan's back from his vast journey to maker knows where, I have until he tells me I have to come back. And that essentially means I have until he's had his fill of fucking Feferi into the mattress."

John wrinkled up his nose at her, easily overlooking the teasing smile she wore. "That's just crude, Vris."

She stretched where she stood, flashing her fangs in a brilliant grin. "You know I'm right, though. I mean. He probably won't let her get a word out about Sollux being missing."

"I don't know. Judging just from what I know of Feferi, she can be pretty insistent."

"And that's why she's our little abdicated Empress to be. Provided she survives the Condesce, and to be perfectly honest, I hope she does. The Condesce's a giant bitch. And that's saying something, coming from me."

Once she felt decently stretched, she strode over to a dresser drawer, picking up a brush from the top of it to start trying to work through the mess they'd managed to make of her hair. John watched her for a long moment, briefly distracted by her firm, lithe form. Then he sighed, shaking his head a little bit. "But Sollux is Eridan's... kismesis, right? I'd imagine he'd be wanting to know where he was."

That gave Vriska pause, the brush about halfway down her waist-length hair as she stared quietly at the wall in front of her. "...damn it, John, could you stop being right about things?"

"I know you're actually worried about this." The human got to his feet, walking over to stand next to her. Vriska easily stood nearly a full head taller than him, not counting her horns, but most times, it didn't seem to matter. For all of her bluster and rough nature, especially as the captain of the Grand Marquise, she could be – whether the situation called for it or not – surprisingly soft. "Sollux is your friend too."

She snorted a bit, but from the look on her face, he'd hit a nerve. How very like Vriska. Hide her emotions behind the thickest wall she could manage, put on a face of being the biggest bitch in the galaxy to her crew and even her friends, but give her a night with John and he seemed to have the knack for poking and prodding until he found the edges of those layers and peeled them back. She felt unpleasantly exposed, but it wasn't like she could really deny him. "Yeah. He is. I'm not going to fool myself into thinking he could possibly still be alive, though. Lowbloods aren't exactly the most respected at troll ports, and that's where Eridan docked to let him take a shuttle to Earth. He would've come all the way here himself, but the Admiral insisted the Ascension had to get going into deep space immediately. Whoever grabbed him, there's no guarantee they kept him alive."

John frowned, his brow knitting at that comment. "Yeah. But there's no guarantee they killed him, either. I would think Sollux would be useful to someone. High level psionic, smart, clever... a hacker, a programmer. I mean, one would think..."

"I know what one would think, John." The sharpness of her tone gave Vriska herself pause, and she jerked her head up, glancing at the smaller male with a clear expression of regret. "...ugh. I'm sorry. This is just a really fucking touchy subject. Sollux is known for getting way in over his head and doing stupid shit that gets his stupid ass in trouble. All the time. Just ask Eridan. He's a good helmsman, he's a brilliant hacker, he's an amazing programmer... Sollux is everything someone would want to get and keep. I don't know who the hell might've taken him. I do know that if anyone will find him, though, it's Eridan. But all the same, I'm not going to hold my breath."

Scowling, she walked back over to the bed to sit down, hair half brushed. John gave a patient sigh, walking over to pluck the brush from her hands and take over, gently drawing the bristles through the surprisingly soft strands. "People don't realize how much of a heart you actually have, Vriska. You know that? I don't think it would hurt to show that sometimes." When she snorted at him, he smiled, kissing her shoulder. "I'm serious. I mean, not right away.. But it's true. You're a good person."

Finally, Vriska smiled, offering a weak smile over her shoulder at him. "Yeah, yeah. Says you. I refuse to take your word on it, though."

He only chuckled at that, pulling her hair aside to kiss the ridge on the back of her neck, another evolutionary marvel supposedly from her time as a grub. He rather liked watching her gasp like that, jerking straight up before shooting him the most devious look she could manage over her shoulder. John just gave the biggest, goofiest grin. "What can I say? I have a whole day of you to myself. I get the feeling we won't be leaving the house..."

* * *

After leaving the Descent to head for his own ship, the only thing on Eridan's mind was how furious he was. He had been stuck dealing with the brainless idiots in the outlying colonies, barely held together enough to even be considered troll settlements, and upon his return, he didn't even have the boon of getting to spend some quality time alone with his beloved matesprit.

To make matters even worse, his kismesis was missing. He knew – remembered quite well, in fact – that he had left the psionic at a spaceport. He was supposed to be heading to Earth, to spend some time with his matesprit... not missing somewhere! He couldn't focus like this. Where was he?

He paused briefly, glancing around. His crew was strangely subdued, not meeting his gaze, avoiding walking too close to him. He narrowed his eyes, fingers flexing. "I w-want one of you to tell me w-what the fuck is goin' on."

No one responded. The seadweller scowled, turning in a full circle to look around at the small group of his crew. The nearest was a young green blood, his eyes wide as he gazed up at their captain. "It's nothing, Captain Ampora..."

"You're bein' beligerent, green blood. Tell me w-what you know!"

The green blood jerked back at that, eyes wide, his whole frame beginning to shake. "Aye, captain! I swear on the egg that hatched me! I don't know nothing, sir!"

Eridan immediately bared his fangs, two rows of serrated daggers. One hand shot out, grabbing the crewman by the throat, claws digging in. Pinpricks of green blood welled up from the points as the terrified green blood stared up at him, shaking in his grasp, hands fumbling around to find something to hold onto that wasn't the magenta blood's arm. Eridan gave a low, angry growl, bringing the youngster up eye to eye with him. "You are not goin' to deny me. I do not tolerate insubordination on my ship! W-where is my fuckin' helmsman? W-where is Sollux Captor?" When the green blood again did not respond, Eridan spun, throwing the younger troll hard into the wall, his shoulders drawing up as he bristled. "I am not goin' to ask you a-fuckin'-gain. W-where. Is. Sollux. Captor. W-where is my kismesis?"

It was an older orange blood who spoke up then, shaking and drawn back. "S-sir... kismesisitude isn't a set quadrant-"

Clearly the wrong choice of words. As the green blood was struggling to regain his breath, Eridan was advancing on the orange blood. "I started courtin' him as my kismesis w-when w-we w-were barely five sw-weeps old. He became my kismesis w-when w-we w-were sev-ven and a half. He is the best fuckin' helmsman in this fuckin' fleet and he fuckin'. Belongs. To me!"

At last, it was the green blood that broke. "Captain! Oh, bless it... Captain, it was the Admiral! Admiral Dualscar's helmsman burnt out! He told us not to tell you! He planned on grabbing the Helmsman when you left him... we were told not to talk! We couldn't very well say no, sir, he'd have culled us all! Forgive us, sir, oh mercy..."

For a moment, Eridan just stared at the group, all of them looking down at the floor and fidgeting. They had all known. Every last one of them had known even before they left for that backwater planet and he had been none the wiser, so lost in his anger that he had been stuck in that position when he was the second highest ranked captain in the entire troll military...

He took in a deep breath, then let it out through his nose, magenta eyes narrowed to slits, glowing faintly in the dim light of the hall. "W-we're dockin' at port, and I'm gettin' in touch with the Grand Marquise..." The looks of horror passed between the crew were plain. "Ev-veryone to your stations. W-we don't have much time. I'll deal with all a you later."

* * *

Back at the Egbert household, things were going along exactly as both partners enjoyed.

Vriska was grinning a bit, shifting so she could crawl into her partner's lap, sitting astride his thighs with the most devilish grin. For her height, she really wasn't that heavy. He wasn't bothered. Not with her this close.

John just smiled, capturing her lips again, his eyes falling closed as she moved against him, fluid and wanting. She was, to him, more than perfect. His hands trailed down her sides, up the curve of her spine, causing her to make the cutest sounds into his mouth. He reveled in every breath. He was lucky enough to have Vriska; to have her enjoy making love with him was just a perk.

As for Vriska, this was a welcome distraction. John meant a lot to her, and humans were so versatile. He was painfully good at calling her on her bullshit, though, and sometimes she just needed to shut out the world he kept bringing her back to. She fully intended to keep him distracted, but the sudden frantic cheeping of the comm on her uniform – bits of which were strewn haphazardly across the floor – brought both of them back around. Vriska made a disgruntled sound, leaning forward to mouth John's earlobe, hopefully bringing his attention away from the comm and back to where his hands were resting against the curve of the soft mounds on her chest. "Just let it ring, John."

The ploy was hopeless. John was looking past her toward where the comm was still beeping, his blue eyes bright and alert. "Vris... Vris, what if it's important?"

The female troll sighed, resting her head briefly against his. "Damn you for being responsible, John. Fine, fine. But you keep that gun at the ready. I'm not done with you."

Flashing a wicked grin, she fumbled on the nightstand untils he found her glasses. Once theyw ere securely on her face, she stood from John's lap and fished her comm out from the pocket of her pants. The symbol on the screen was all she needed to see. Dualscar was too much of a douche to actually send direct messages, so it had to be Eridan. Lip curled back as she heaved an agitated sigh, Vriska rolled her eyes and hit the switch to answer. "Eridan, just how much do you value your physical relationship with Feferi? Because if you enjoy fucking her, then you will tell me what the hell it is you want within the next ten seconds."

"Cod, you act like I killed your best friend. Calm your fuckin' tits." Eridan sounded shaky, but strangely engaged about something. He took in a deep breath, then let it out uneasily. "I found Sol."

Vriska's eyes widened. Had she just heard him correctly? "You found Sollux. Alive?"

The seadweller made a disgruntled sound. "No, V-Vris. I'm callin' you soundin' anxious as fuckin' shit because he's fuckin' in pieces on my fuckin' ship. Yes, I found him aliv-ve!"

Vriska swallowed, immediately starting to pace, completely disregarding her still disrobed state as she ran a h and through her hair. "So he's safe, then?"

"Not yet." Eridan's voice took on a dark, dangerous edge. "He's on the Orphaner's Descent."

Vriska let out a low curse in Alternian at that, her hand scrubbing at her eyes behind her glasses. "I thought you were just on the Descent! How the hell did you not find him then?"

There was an angry noise on the other side of the comm. "Because I didn't reely hav-ve an excuse to blame my fuckin' ancestor for the disappearance of my fuckin' helmsman!" Sighing, the seadweller took a moment to compose himself before speaking again. "I questioned my crew-w. That's how-w I learned. It took me throw-win' some no account green blood – no offense to Nep a course – to get a straight answ-wer!"

"This is... so he's alive, and on the Descent. That's a start." It took a moment for Vriska to collect her thoughts, cerulean eyes narrowed sharply. "So the trip to the outlying territories...?"

"A fuckin' w-wild honkbeast chase," Eridan spat in reply. "He knew-w I'd leav-ve Sol at port, and grabbed him as soon as I w-was out a range! Point is, V-Vris, I need you here. I'm goin' after that tw-wisted piece a shit, but w-we hav-ve to catch up to the Descent first. I know-w you're spendin' time w-with your matesprit..."

Finally, Vriska gave a heavy sigh. "Fuck. No, I'll be there. You fucking owe me, Ampora."

She didn't wait for Eridan to reply, shutting off the comm before sighing and turning to John with a sad smile. "Looks like you have to holster that gun for now, tough guy. Duty calls."

"I think my gun can handle the disappointment." He got to his feet, walking over so Vriska could lean down and give him a light kiss. "Take care of yourself, Vris. Let me know what turns up."

* * *

The lower pits, the Orphaner's Descent. How far the mighty had fallen.

He was a massive beast, hands and arms long stained with the blood of thousands past the point of scrubbing clean, long horns twisted and ridged, violet eyes glowing against a face painted with the mark of a jagged skull. He was sitting in silence, staring at the information some of his Subjuggulators had brought him. His lips curled back in a wicked smile, long fangs gleaming.

"So. Thinks he can keep this fucking hidden. Fucking cocky little nooksucker..." He chuckled softly, languishing in a temporary grasp on sanity. "A mutant freak and a little gutterblood. How... sentimental." He laughed, a low chuckle at first, before throwing his head back in an all out raucous roar, pushing himself up so hard that his chair clattered to the ground behind him. "How MOTHERFUCKING GLORIOUS! HAH! MY DESCENTANT'S GOT NO FUCKIN' SENSE OF DECENCY!"

Nearby, a couple of the subjuggulators cowered back, watching their commander, moving around in utter silence like dogs subduing to their alpha. He was in a mood now, pacing the length of the chamber. "Just think about it. This is a complete upheaval of our motherfucking culture right here! ARE WE GONNA LET THAT MOTHERFUCKING HAPPEN?"

He spun on his Subjuggulators, and an angry roar rose among them, agreeing with how much of an audacity the Highblood's descendant's behavior was. They threw their heads back, indigo and blue bloods screaming their rage, insanity and chaotic order mixing in an air of hate and centuries of bloodlust bred into their cultures. The Subjuggulators were wild dogs, none of them bowing to anyone save the Grand Highblood himself, all of them only obeying the Condesce and her court because their alpha told them to.

And he just continued to cackle, arms flung wide and head thrown back, wild hair cascading around him like some living monster, eyes shut tight. The whole room was alive with the mad laughter of the Subjuggulators, nearly a hundred strong, creating a dischordant, wailing cacaphony that trailed down the halls in a litany of madness.

A few minutes of this passed before the Grand Highblood's laughter faded to nothing and he looked around, baring his fangs before barking out, "MOTHERFUCKING QUIET!" All around him, the noise stopped, just a faint echo lingering in the deep, dark hole that served as the main gathering area for the most vicious, brutal, and vile trolls Alternia had to offer. "So my descendant wants to play this game. Fine. We'll play his game. I want a list of all the rebel shit we have in custody, right the fuck now." He moved over, fluid and graceful, to put his chair back up, lounging in it as he examined his claws. "I want to make sure he fucking feels this... down to the last fucking scream."


	6. Interlude 3

_January 7, 1948  
__From the Desk of Dr. Charles English_

The scientists and technicians working on the alien ship have made a remarkable discovery! Apparently, part of the ship was still running on auxilliary power, and said power was keeping a small tube of some kind stable. The tube is a cylindrical container of some kind, roughly two meters in height and four feet in diameter. We have been working on the contents of the tube for some time, and just this morning, my young assistant Richard Kratzer, found a strange latch on the side. After some time of working with it, we were able to open the tube and finally uncover the contents.

What we have found, gentlemen, is the most profound and exciting discovery of this entire endeavor. Inside, at first in some sort of suspended animation, was a small alien girl. She appears to have the physiology of a fourteen year old human, though she appears to behave much older. She has shown a great deal of trepidation in dealing with the researchers, though her lack of knowledge of the English language has been a bit of a hurdle.

Upon finally overcoming her initial unease, however, she has become comfortable dealing with Intern Kratzer. From her behavior with him, I have been able to determine that her behavior is much like that of a trained slave, though she shows quite a rebellious streak. With her natural inclination to clean near everything in sight, however, some of my research partners have come to call her the "Handmaid" in jest. Suiting, though with her demeanor, I would consider her more of a demoness myself.

Unlike the rest of the crew from the downed craft, the alien girl's eyes are a bright gold shade, while the interior of her mouth is an almost rust red. She has blunt teeth, unlike the adults, and thick, curved ram horns. I suspect she may have been a genetic mutation, kept on the ship for experimentation or study. We will uncover more as we begin to teach her English and move forward with the investigation.


End file.
